


You aren't nearly as bad as you think (you are).

by Patatarte



Series: The CowCrew ship fest [4]
Category: Cow Chop, fakechop somehow
Genre: Angst, M/M, not happy end, or only if you are really optimistic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 05:29:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12624279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Patatarte/pseuds/Patatarte
Summary: There's a motel where they go sometimes, it's not a good motel.





	You aren't nearly as bad as you think (you are).

Aleks is lying flat on the matress, smoking a cigarette. He's more used to vape these days, he likes the smoke more than anything, but for some reasons he came back to the old cigs, enjoying the faint noise of the stick burning as he inhales slowly. He stares at the cracked ceiling, that place is bad, barely above shitty. He knows they aren't rolling in money, but they have enough to pay for a nicer place, not an ivory room, but something decent. 

Not that the place is that important.

The room is too warm, and even if he's not wearing anything else than his boxer down his tighs and with his skin glistening with sweat, he starts feeling a bit cold due to the sudden lack of activities and additional human warmth. Maybe that's why he went back to the classic cigarettes. He loves to think that he's smoking as a way to sign the end of the night, to end on another pleasurable note, but it's not. It's barely comfort at this point.

He's lost in thoughts, his vision getting past the cracks on the ceiling to go straight into too many scenarios as his fingertip touches his lips. There's no taste here, nothing but ashes, but he imagines it anyways. These nights happen without warnings, as they slip away from the others as usual, planning something and changing their minds as one look lingers a bit too long. Then they end here, in that motel, mapping each others skin. He has every inches memorized each time but forgets all of it when clothes fall on the floor.

He's a needy bastard, that's all he is.

The bathroom's door opens as its light gets turned off in the same movement. There's a warm cloud that covers the windows, and the neon light of the motel gets nicer. The room is pink, warm, turning the room into a good scene for a movie. But it isn't a movie, or a bad one because Aleks doesn't dare looking at the other, that's not how they do things. When they are done, it's almost shamefull. There's no talk about it, almost like it never happened, until their magnets activates and bring them back together in that room.

It's alright, maybe there is no reason to talk after all.

Aleks is ready to stand and put his clothes on quickly to leave on the dark streets, like they do.But this time is different, the matress moves a little as Brett sits next to him. There's a hand on his own, stealing his cigarette only for a brief time. Aleks smells like sweat, smoke, alcohol and sex, and probably looks like it too. Brett, on the other hand, looks and smells amazing, clean. It makes Aleks feels uneasy about the constant differences between them. 

He feels inadequate at best.

It's strange how the other man is so friendly and nice to him all the time, not giving him the favorite treatement compaired with the others, but it's still a specific relationship that they have. And that closeness isn't present in that motel. The words are rare, replaced by grunts, nonsensical whispers, a name of two and single words to tell what's happening and that's all. Not the conversations nor the laughs or the snarks, nothing that made their relationship so strong to begin with.

They map each others but don't aknowledge it.

Tonight, like every similar nights, Aleks hopes. His stomach is in a weird place, twisting, butterflies flipping in a storm as Brett leans and kisses him, a long and sensual kiss. It's not usual, not after Brett is done showering. So, of course Aleks brings his arms around Brett's neck, plays with the hair there, fingers tangled in it, sighs against his mouth. But there's no words and Brett ends it without anything more than moving away, standing and taking his vest and gun.

The room is paid, Brett made sure no words would go out about them. Aleks can stay the night if he wants but he never does, why would he without someone else next to him ? No, he never does when Brett walks away from the room, because it has no meaning. He refuses to be a lonely figure on a bed in a pink light, cold and full of doubts. There's no way he'll sleep here without a good reason and his reason always leaves.

One day maybe, with a fool's hope like he's full of. 

Their eyes meet for a second, heavy with meaning but no words are spoken and Brett opens the door and leave. Aleks turns his head again, eyes back on the ceiling, finishing his cigarette. His chest hurts, his whole body shudders but he stays strong despites it all. He hates that situation, hates being a coward, hates that he hopes both that Brett's girlfriend will have a good night with her lover and hopes she'll find out about him soon. Because he isn't strong enought to end it by himself.

How can his body survives so much pleasure and contentment and feeling yet so meaningless in such a short span ? It hurts, and yet, as soon as Brett will look at his lips, he'll give up everything to spend some minutes in heaven again, to be burned down by his pretty devil.


End file.
